Sacrifices of a Nightingale
by Ryeloza
Summary: "Lynette didn't lose it until the ambulance doors shut." Missing moments from the season six finale.
1. Introduction

**Disclaimer: **If I was doing this for profit then I wouldn't be working a 9-hour shift tomorrow. So yeah, this is all just for my own amusement.

**Story Summary: **"Lynette didn't lose it until the ambulance doors shut." Missing moments from the season six finale.

**Sacrifices of a Nightingale**

A story by **Ryeloza**

**Introduction**

Lynette didn't lose it until the ambulance doors shut.

The Calvary had arrived in a blaze of flashing lights and sirens, but Lynette had remained focused on Eddie, watching his every movement with the eyes of a hawk. She honestly hadn't believed that he would hurt the baby—not after everything that had happened—but if he'd even looked at the baby the wrong way he would have seen just what she was capable of in a fit of rage. In the end, Eddie had just sat quietly while the police burst into the house and the last glimpse she had of him was his eternally wounded eyes staring at her intensely.

Now, ensconced safely in the ambulance, Lynette couldn't stop crying. She seemed to be in good company as the baby was wailing even louder than she was, but the paramedics glossed over their tears with little concern. One of them dabbed her skin with rubbing alcohol and before she really knew what was going on, he injected her with something. "This is just to help you relax," he said in an annoyingly rational voice. Relax. As if such a thing was possible after everything that had happened.

"I need my husband," she pleaded. Four little words she'd kept bottled up inside for nearly twenty-four hours, but now she had all the freedom in the world to say them again and again. "Where is he? Have you called him yet?"

Whatever the paramedic injected her with was already taking affect and she had to force herself to focus on him. "They'll call him from the hospital. I'm sure he'll be there as soon as he can. You need to relax. You've been through a very traumatic experience."

If keeping her eyes open hadn't been such a struggle, Lynette would have punched him. As it was, the most she could manage was to turn her head to see her baby one last time before her eyes finally shut.


	2. Chapter One

**Disclaimer: **This isn't mine. If it was, we would have learned the name of the baby in the season finale.

**A/n: **Thank you, thank you for the reviews! And for reading. And for continuing to read and review. I hope this story continues to entertain.

**Sacrifices of a Nightingale**

A story by **Ryeloza**

**Chapter One**

Tom fully expected Lynette to be waiting for him when he got home. He didn't particularly anticipate the big bouquet of red tulips to quell her anger, but it could lessen it a little. And certainly the immense amount of coffee he'd downed at the diner adjacent to the flower shop would give him the strength to withstand however she wanted to berate him. It wasn't as though he didn't deserve it; the woman was one week from her due date and their kids, with the exception of pokey Parker, had always been in a rush. If she had gone into labor while he was smashed she definitely would have killed him.

Cautiously, Tom opened the front door and held out the flowers in front of him as a peace offering. When Lynette didn't immediately assault him, he called out, "Honey?"

Before Tom could do little more than close the front door and wonder if Lynette was going to pop out from somewhere to ensure the element of surprise, he heard the exaggerated sound of a throat clearing and glanced up to see Penny standing on the stairs with her arms crossed. "Well, well, well," she said huffily. She glared at him—a tiny, perfect copy of her mother—and for a second, the illogical thought that Lynette had sent Penny to do her dirty work crossed his mind. Then Tom came to his senses and greeted her.

"Hey, baby. Have you seen your mom?"

Penny came down the rest of the stairs slowly and stopped on the landing so she was just about eye level with him. "Are you kidding me?" she asked, bracing her hands against the banister.

Tom flinched. "That mad, huh?"

"Of course I'm mad!" Penny stomped her foot and Tom realized that she didn't have a clue about her mom. "You just left me alone here!"

For the first time, Tom let every thought of Lynette, her anger, and his fate leave his mind and he actually focused on his daughter. "What are you talking about? Aren't your brothers here?"

Penny looked at him like he was an idiot and Tom felt his heart break a little. Was Penny at that age already? She still seemed too young. "I'm talking about last night!" she fumed. "I got home from Caitlyn's and no one was home!"

"What?"

"You were all supposed to be home by seven, remember? And you said you'd call Caitlyn's parents if you were going to be later, but you didn't and they dropped me off and I went inside and no one was home."

Tom gave her a slightly condescending smile. "Well what time did your mom get there? It couldn't have been more than a half an hour. You've been home alone that long before."

Penny groaned loudly and rolled her eyes and Tom felt his patience leave him. Very deliberately, he reached out and firmly took hold of her shoulder. "That's enough, young lady. I understand that you're upset, but we're going to talk about it calmly or not at all."

To Tom's surprise, Penny's eyes welled up with angry, frustrated tears and she swallowed a few times before she spoke, no more respectfully than she had before. "I was home alone all night! I tried to call you and Mom and neither of you answered and Parker was over at Ron's house and he told me to stop being a baby and no one cared!" Penny paused for a breath, hiccupping for air between her hitched sobs, and swiped at her tears. "So I made myself a sandwich and I kept thinking that you guys would be home soon, but you didn't come and it got later and later so finally I just went to bed. But I couldn't sleep so I was just lying there until I heard you come home. But that wasn't until one! You left me alone all night!"

If it was possible to think a hundred different thoughts at once, Tom was experiencing that now and he couldn't focus on one long enough to figure out what to say to Penny. Where had Lynette been? Why hadn't she come home or at least called? Why hadn't Penny thought to call one of the neighbors? Had they really left her so unprepared, even in a situation they'd never envisioned? Why had he chosen last night to drink too much? Where the hell was Lynette?

"Dad?"

Tom turned. Parker had just come through the door, home from Ron's house, and he was staring at Tom and Penny like they'd grown extra heads. "Have you heard from your mother?" Tom asked without hesitating.

"Uh…No. Why?"

Tom shoved the flowers into Parker's arms and fumbled to pull out his cell phone, his hands honestly shaking so much that he couldn't get a firm grip. Penny, whose sobs had reduced to sniffles, seemed to realize that there was more to her story than an injustice to her. "Daddy?" she said. "What's wrong? Where's Mom?"

"I don't know." It was the truth. If she had never been home last night then she'd never had the opportunity to get mad at him. Which meant that when he'd shouted through Eddie's door today he hadn't been getting the silent treatment. No one had answered. But why? Were they even there? If she had gone into labor they would have called him from the hospital. And none of that explained where she had been last night. Certainly not at Eddie's, right? Tom pulled at his shirt collar as he hit the speed dial for Lynette's cell, honestly having trouble breathing. When it went straight to voicemail, his legs nearly buckled beneath him. He took a steadying breath before the beep and tried to stay calm for the kids' sakes if nothing else. "Lynette, it's me. Call me as soon as you get this."

"Is Mom okay?" Penny asked as soon as he snapped the phone shut. "Why isn't she answering?"

"I don't know." Tom dug into his pants pocket for the car keys. "I'm going back over to Eddie's. Her car is there." He ran a hand through his hair and blew out a shaky breath. "You kids stay here. Call me if your mom comes home or if you hear from her, okay?"

Parker nodded; he looked pale and unsure, but his voice was strong when he agreed. "Sure."

Tom hurried out the door without another word and got back into the car. As he fumbled to get the key into the ignition, it slipped from his hands and fell under the seat. "Shit," he said, bending awkwardly to reach for the keychain. He felt like punching something or breaking something or maybe just sitting still and crying like Penny had before, but none of those were real possibilities. It was already six o'clock. No one had heard from Lynette in almost twenty-four hours. How could he have been so stupid as to not realize that until now?

Grasping the keys in his fingertips, Tom sat up and finally managed to start the car. Just as he began to pull out of the driveway, Parker ran out of the house, telephone in his hand; Tom slammed on the breaks and rolled down the window.

"Dad!" said Parker, holding the phone out toward him. "It's the hospital."

Tom's heart stopped for a moment; he froze. It could have been anything—as simple as a cut that needed stitches or as exciting as the news that she'd gone into labor—but Tom could only think of the worst case scenario. What if she was…

"Dad!" Parker looked at him with fearful eyes and he suddenly looked all of five again. It was enough to shock Tom out of his stupor, and he reached for the phone. With one long sigh, he offered up a thousand prayers that would do nothing to change the outcome of the phone call, and said, "Hello?"


	3. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer: **This is not mine, though I do so much wish that it was.

**A/n: **Thank you to all you lovely folks who reviewed. I'm glad that you're enjoying the story and I hope this chapter is just as satisfying. Either way, I'd love to know what you think.

**Sacrifices of a Nightingale**

A story by **Ryeloza**

**Chapter Two**

Tom practically ran out of the elevator toward the nurse's station of the maternity ward and almost tripped over his own feet in the process. As soon as he'd heard the word "labor" from the person who had called from the hospital, his whole body had gone numb in sweet relief. He'd barely been able to process the name of the hospital before he hung up and then he peeled out of the driveway after giving Parker only the briefest possible explanation of what was going on. He felt like he couldn't possibly move as quickly as he needed to and as a result he felt shaky and frustrated.

Tom rested his hands against the counter at the nurse's station and leaned as far into the nurse's personal space as he could. "Lynette Scavo. She was admitted—she's pregnant…" he sputtered, his brain going faster than his mouth. "I'm the father—not _her _father. She's my wife…"

"Yes. Okay, calm down, sir," the nurse said. Her tone was placating, and it helped to ground Tom. She wouldn't be so practical if things weren't going well. With painfully slow execution, the nurse scrolled through the computer files. "She's in room seven-ten."

In a day that had simply been a roller coaster of emotions, Tom finally felt a relieving spark of happiness. "So she's not even in the delivery room yet? I haven't missed it?" He grinned at the nurse and resisted the urge to lean over the counter and hug her.

"Oh, sir, I thought—"

"Thank you," said Tom, past the point of listening yet again. He backed away from the counter and began to follow the twisted maze of hallways marked only by occasional signs to direct him toward the room he needed. When he found seven-ten, he burst in without any inkling to stay quiet, and then stopped dead in his tracks. Lynette lay in the bed, asleep—the most welcome, beautiful sight he'd seen all day—but one glance at her told him that she'd obviously had the baby already. The realization hit him with a pang of heartsickness he didn't quite expect. He'd missed it. That wonderful, terrifying, miraculous moment was gone from him and he'd never be able to get it back.

Slowly, Tom crossed the room to the bed, reaching for Lynette's hand and then using his free hand to smooth back the hair from where it lay across her cheek. She didn't stir and Tom felt equally torn between disappointment because she didn't wake up and guilt for wanting her to. There wasn't more than a moment to process this, though, when there was a brief knock on the door and then a doctor entered the room.

"Mr. Scavo?" The doctor looked at Tom expectantly and he reluctantly moved away from Lynette so they could speak more softly. "I'm Dr. Hortez. I examined your wife and your daughter when they were brought in."

Tom frowned, again stumbling over his fast-moving thoughts. "Are they okay? What do you mean brought in? You didn't deliver the baby?"

"They're both fine," the doctor assured him. "Your wife had some slight tearing and we're monitoring the baby closely, but they're both doing well. Did anyone explain to you the circumstances of the birth?"

"No one has told me anything," said Tom, unaware that he mostly hadn't heard what they had told him. "What happened?"

The doctor frowned. Tom got the impression that he hadn't wanted to be the one to break this news to him and he had to remind himself that everything was okay to keep his nerves steady. Whatever had happened obviously hadn't been good. "Your wife went into labor around eight o'clock yesterday evening. She was being held against her will—"

Tom felt the blood drain from his face and the doctor held out a steadying hand, gripping his shoulder. "What?" he asked dimly as Dr. Hortez forcibly guided him to a chair. Tom sat gratefully. "By who?"

"I don't know all of the details, sir. I do know that the man is in custody now. He was the one who delivered the baby, sometime early this afternoon. From what your wife told the paramedics, it seems that the umbilical cord was wrapped around your daughter's neck, but it was removed quickly and, like I said, she's doing fine now. There's nothing to worry about."

"Nothing to worry about," Tom muttered, briefly pressing his forehead into his palm and then looking back up at the doctor. "Are you sure they're okay? You're sure?"

"Yes. The paramedics gave your wife something to help her relax. She was a little hysterical, but she will be fine."

"Hysterical," Tom parroted, unable to stop. "She was hysterical. She was hysterical because she was being held against her will…I don't understand…Who would do that? Why…?" Tom stopped mid-thought and his eyes widened. Her car had been at Eddie's. Eddie, who'd seemed over-invested in Lynette since they'd taken him in. Eddie, who had attacked their son in the middle of their living room. Eddie, who'd grown up with an abusive mother who had mysteriously disappeared. But why? Why would he do that?

"Are you okay, sir? Can I get you anything?"

Tom ran a hand over his tired eyes and blinked back tears. There would be time to process all of this later. Time to talk to Lynette. Time to learn the truth. Right now there were more important things to focus on. Tom swallowed the lump in his throat. "My daughter. Can I see her?"

Dr. Hortez nodded. "I'll have one of the nurses bring her in." He put a hand on Tom's shoulder and patted it companionably before he exited the room. For a few minutes, Tom sat and simply tried to fight back the tears that stung his eyes, but it was a losing battle. Every time he got complacent, every time he started to take for granted that nothing would ever fell his indomitable wife, some unseen force stepped in to remind him how fragile her life truly was. Within these moments of pure clarity came the frightening realization that someday, sometime, there would be no miracle and she actually would be gone. The inevitability of this was a sickening, terrifying notion, and nothing Tom could do would block it from him mind at present. Eventually the fear would fade; eventually life would go back to normal, but for now the best he could do was to relish the fact that everything had turned out okay this time.

The door opened again while the nurse simultaneously knocked on it and she entered the room with a big bright smile and his daughter. In a heartbeat, Tom was on his feet and he hovered near the nurse as she pushed the portable crib over near Lynette's bed. Tom gave her long enough to stop and put on the break before he scooped the baby into his arms. The nurse gave him a slightly scandalized look—she'd probably wanted to give him a manual's worth of instructions—but Tom just shook his head.

"She's my fifth baby," he said, ignoring both the raw heartache for the baby they'd lost and the ambivalent pang over how he'd missed most of Kayla's life. "I think I've got a handle on it by now."

He didn't look at the nurse again, so he couldn't gauge her reaction to his comment, but he let out a little sigh of relief when he heard her leave the room. Alone, finally. Alone with his tiny, perfect, sweet baby; his little girl who was gazing up at him with the biggest eyes he'd ever seen on a baby. For an instant, every worry, fear and hurt of the day seeped away, and in this moment he had waited nine long months for, Tom finally let himself cry.


	4. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer: **I can never wish hard enough that this is mine, so it never will be.

**A/n: **You know what makes a really long work day better? Reviews. Thank you to everyone who left feedback; it helps in more ways than one.

**Sacrifices of a Nightingale**

A story by **Ryeloza**

**Chapter Three**

Lynette woke slowly; a gradual return to consciousness that began with hearing a low voice that seemed to reverberate within her and then hastened with a dawning awareness that the bed dipped slightly under the weight of another person. She felt so sluggish, though, that opening her eyes was a struggle, and it took several long minutes for her to cautiously blink her eyes. It was odd how everything that had happened seemed so dreamlike now, almost as though she'd watched herself go through it rather than experiencing it herself. Consequently, when Lynette was finally able to focus her eyes and she saw her husband sitting on her bed, fussing over their daughter, she was fairly certain that it was all in her head. Still, if it was a dream, it was the best one she'd had in ages, and it brought a sweet smile to her face.

With no strength of mind to draw Tom's attention to her, Lynette contented herself to simply watch him as her thoughts lazily meandered. He was such a natural now with the baby. When the twins were born he'd been a jumble of nerves forcibly concealed because she was a total wreck. His knowledge of changing diapers and always supporting the neck seemed like a wealth of information compared to her experience with children. She could still remember looking at him with Porter cradled in one arm, Preston in the other and a thread of fear in his eyes, and not quite believing him when he said they'd be fine. But of course they had been.

Penny, in some ways, had been the most challenging. The twins had practically still been babies when Parker was born, and although it had been difficult, the transition had been simpler. By the time they had Penny, Porter and Preston were already in kindergarten and bringing a baby into the hectic fold of their family life was much more complicated. The boys' reactions had wildly varied when they brought her home from the hospital. Despite having been the baby, Parker had regarded Penny with a vivid curiosity rather than the jealousy she and Tom had anticipated. Not that this hadn't come with drawbacks—Lynette could still remember the day she caught Parker trying to see if Penny would eat his vegetables. She'd come into the room to find him crouched in front of the baby swing, holding out his fork with a carrot speared on the end and prompting his three-month-old sister to eat it for him. It was a miracle he hadn't poked her eye out. Although, considering Parker seemed to regard Penny as more of an experiment than a person those first six months, the real miracle was that Penny had survived with little more than a couple of too-rough pokes.

Porter had been the jealous one. For him, Penny's arrival had been an excuse to act out more than usual, a cry for her already spread-thin attention. Of course, he'd dragged Preston right along with him, but her firstborn had actually been the most accepting of Penny's arrival. Preston had taken to his sister with an instinctive brotherly affection and Lynette was still convinced that it was his admonition to Parker that "the baby isn't a doll, dummy; she'll get hurt!" and not her many frightened outbursts that he had to be careful, that had finally cured Parker of his need to harass his sister.

She wondered how their new little girl would fit into the family. It seemed natural to suppose that the boys were old enough now that the baby would be a little princess to spoil mercilessly; that Penny might act out if she felt the sting of envy. But if Lynette had learned one thing over the years it was that her kids would forever keep her on her toes; they were only predictable in how unpredictable they were.

It was impossible for Lynette to put into words how much she loved her children. Five of the most purely ecstatic moments of her life had been the first times she had looked into their faces and she knew that for Tom it had been the same. He'd always wanted to be a father. She still regarded his unbridled joy when she told him he would finally get his wish as the force that had grounded her through all of her doubts. With Porter and Preston it had been the fear that she was losing the life she'd worked so hard to get; with Parker and Penny, the anxiety that she'd never be able to take care of so many kids at once; and with her new little girl and her forever-lost son, the terror of inevitability that her life would never be the same when she didn't want it to change at all. Through it all, Tom's excitement had been her anchor—a constant reminder that love overwhelmed all of the bad. That even if life wasn't perfect—and it rarely was—it was all worth it in the end.

Lynette stared into the face of her baby, whose big eyes were directed at her father. It was impossible to remember that just nine months ago she'd been purely dreading this moment when one look at daughter made her heart nearly burst with love. What did the past matter, anyway, when compared to the present? Life couldn't get better than this.

"I think Mommy's watching us, peanut," Tom murmured. His eyes drifted from the baby's face to hers and Lynette met his gaze with a smile. Gently, he picked up the baby's tiny hand and waved it in Lynette's direction. "Hi Mommy."

Finally finding some semblance of strength, Lynette lifted her hand and grasped the baby's other hand between her fingers. "Don't worry, sweetie. Mommy isn't going to let Daddy name you 'peanut.'"

Tom laughed and the sound was like a welcome breeze over a day filled with tears and pain and fear. "It does start with a 'p,'" he joked. He glanced from the baby back to her and fixed her with a stare so tender that Lynette immediately shied away from it. She'd seen that look too often from him—a bald look of love that was desperate and scared and devastating—and it was nothing but a frank reminder that her life was delicate when all she wanted to think of was how her life would move on.

"I'm sorry," said Tom. The words were so unexpected that Lynette gave him a curious glance.

"For what?"

Tom shook his head. "For not realizing that you were in trouble. I didn't figure it out until it was too late. I can't—I don't—"

A flicker of pain ran through her heart. The memory of that moment when he'd come to the door and for one hopeful instant she'd been sure that he would somehow save her…she couldn't put that into words. At least everything had turned out okay. And maybe it was fate that Tom hadn't burst through the door. Eddie's arm had been so tight around her neck, his grip so firm, that she was sure he could have snapped her neck in a second if he'd been frightened enough.

She would never tell Tom that.

"I'm okay," she said. She took as solid a grasp as she could on Tom's forearm. "I'm okay. And so is she." Her eyes flickered to the baby for just an instant before focusing on Tom again. Slowly, he nodded.

"What happened?" he asked. "The doctor said you were being held against your will. By who? Why?"

"Eddie." Lynette swallowed hard as everything bubbled back to the surface. It no longer felt like a dream. It had happened. She had lived it. The memory of it would be with her forever. "I found out—he confessed that he killed all those girls. He killed Irina. And his mother. He attacked Julie."

To Lynette's surprise, Tom's reaction was fairly subdued. He jiggled the baby, making that soft rocking movement that would eventually lull her to sleep, and nodded. Lynette scoffed. "You didn't know."

"No, I didn't," agreed Tom, and Lynette realized that what she had taken as calm acceptance was actually a cover for a thinly veiled tremor of rage. "We let him into our house. We let him around our kids. Jesus, Lynette, you could have died today. Our baby could have died."

"You're mad at me?" she asked, hating the reedy sound of tears in her voice.

"No. I just don't understand how you told me that news with that same tone of pity. Like you still feel sorry for him."

"I do feel sorry for him." Lynette pressed her fingers into the corners of her eyes, fighting tears. "I hate him and I'm scared of him and I have thanked God with every breath today that nothing happened to any of our kids. But yeah, Tom, I feel really sorry for him."

Tom shook his head. She could tell that he wanted to argue, but he didn't and for that she was more than grateful. Already she felt exhausted again; like she had relived this horrible day. Apparently this showed in her face, because Tom's eyes softened and he bent to kiss her. She sighed.

"You should go home. Tell the kids what happened."

"You should get some more sleep." Tom kissed her again on the lips and then on her forehead before he stood. "I'll be here when you wake up."


	5. Chapter Four

**Disclaimer: **I've said it before and I'll say it again: it's not mine.

**A/n: **I've changed the timeline a little comparative to the actual finale. I just don't buy that Lynette would have been home and perfectly well in time to see Susan off just one day after having the baby. So for my own sake of realism, I'm bumping back those final scenes a couple of days.

Thanks again to those of you who are reviewing! You really are fantastic for taking the time to do that.

**Sacrifices of a Nightingale**

A story by **Ryeloza**

**Chapter Four**

Tom ended up staying the entire night with her in the hospital, leaving only briefly to make a phone call to the kids before returning to her side. Whenever she woke up, he was up too, and by the next morning she wondered if he had slept at all. Judging by his haggard eyes, he hadn't. Finally, after she and the baby had both been fed, she managed to convince Tom to go home for awhile. When he returned just after lunch, he looked wholly refreshed and Lynette was able to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Hi," she greeted him warmly. She slowly sat up in the bed and brushed her hair behind her ears, glancing curiously at the book in Tom's hand.

"You're not going to believe this," he said, crossing the room to give her a welcome kiss, "but they actually expect us to name the baby." He gently nudged her over on the bed and climbed in next to her, crossing his legs at the ankles. "So guess what I brought us?"

Lynette snatched the book from him and gawked at the faded yellow cover with a picture of a chubby baby on the front. "Where did you find this?" she asked as she overturned the book and ran her hand over the cracked, worn back cover. The book, _What Shall We Name the Baby?_, had been a gift from Tom's mother that she'd gotten the first time she was pregnant, but she hadn't seen it since she'd been expecting Penny. Eagerly she flipped it open to the "S" section while Tom groaned. "There it is!" She pointed to the name Skip, which had a big star next to it, and glanced at Tom with twinkling eyes. "Skip Scavo."

"Give me that." Tom pulled the book out of her hand and snapped it shut, but Lynette was already thoroughly amused. Her greatest pleasure upon receiving the baby name book—which her mother-in-law had also used while pregnant—was discovering Tom's would-be name if his father hadn't interfered. Teasing Tom about this had been a source of unending entertainment for Lynette and in the intervening years since her last pregnancy she'd unfortunately forgotten about it.

"Little Skippy," she laughed, reaching up to tweak Tom's cheek. "So cute."

"You would think that would stop being funny eventually," Tom grumbled as he aimlessly flipped through the pages.

"Aww." Lynette pecked him on the cheek. "Sweetie, that will never stop being funny. But I promise I'll never tell the kids."

Tom gaped at her as though he'd never even considered this possibility and Lynette took advantage of his surprise to take back the book. "Thank you."

"Sure," she murmured as she turned to the Ps. When she reached the name Polly she let out a triumphant, "Ha!"

"What?" Tom took hold of the side of the book nearest to him and pulled it back a little so he could see the page without his reading glasses. Lynette tapped the name with her finger which, admittedly, was a little obnoxious, but she liked being right too much to care. "That star of approval was all you. You liked Polly, remember?"

"Things change. For instance, _you_ didn't like it. Remember?"

Lynette rolled her eyes. "I liked Penny more. That's all. And it's still better than Patricia."

Tom sighed. "We never could agree on girls' names."

"That's true."

"I didn't want Penny."

Lynette looked at Tom cautiously. She had a feeling she knew what point he was reaching, and she felt reluctant to help him get there. "No," she agreed again.

"So maybe I should get to pick this name," Tom said, but Lynette shook her head before he even completed his sentence. He frowned at her. "Why not?"

"Because…" Lynette trailed off, unable to come up with a better argument than that she wanted to make the decision. It wasn't exactly a fair or reasoned response.

Tom raised an eyebrow, clearly able to deduce what she was thinking. "That's what I thought."

"Can't we just pick something together?"

"Fine." Tom turned to the previous page in the book, though Lynette didn't relinquish her hold on the other side of the cover. "What else did we like back in 2004?"

"You liked Pansy," Lynette said mockingly.

"Yeah, well you liked Pearl." He pointed at the name which bore a neat little red star next to it. "You know, I'm beginning to think that part of the problem was that we just don't like girls' names that start with P."

Lynette frowned. Their penchant for P names had never been intentional; they'd happened to choose Porter and Preston as names on their own merit, agreeing that the alliteration had appeal without being too cutesy for twins. Parker had been a particular favorite of Lynette's even when she'd been pregnant with the twins, so by the time she was pregnant for the third time it almost seemed expected that they'd pick another P. Still, as much as they didn't mean for it to be a tradition, it had certainly become one. "What are you thinking?" she asked carefully.

"You liked Polly because it was your aunt's name. So what if we pick a family name?"

The idea was appealing, much as Lynette didn't want to stray away from their usual fare. "Like what?" She shook her head and added jokingly, "We're not naming her after my mother."

"I wasn't exactly leaning toward Stella. But what about after your grandmother?"

Lynette shrugged. "I wanted to use Elizabeth as a middle name. Or some version of it, depending on what we settle on. Beth, I think."

For a second, Tom looked like he wanted to argue the merit of using Beth as a first name, and Lynette was glad when he changed direction. "Well what about one of my grandmothers?"

"Rose isn't right," said Lynette without offering further explanation. Rose Scavo had, on more than one occasion, lambasted Lynette and she wasn't in any particular hurry to bequeath her name. "What was your maternal grandmother's name?"

"Margaret. And don't pretend that I don't know why 'Rose isn't right.' Gran might have been a little crazy…And yeah, that incident with the wishbone was horrifying, but…" Tom trailed off and stared at her for a second. "You're not listening to a word I'm saying, are you?"

In fact, Lynette wasn't, but she was unapologetic about the matter. The mention of the name Margaret had sparked an idea, and she looked up at Tom with warm, excited eyes. "I know the perfect name."


	6. Chapter Five

**Disclaimer: **I cannot possibly stress how much this is not mine.

**A/n: **Thank you all so much for the encouraging reviews! I, like you all, really wanted to see more Scavo scenes in the finale, and though I know that this can't replace anything the show could have given us, I'm glad to know that it helps to fill in the void a little. So thank you, thank you, thank you! I really couldn't ask for more wonderful readers.

**Sacrifices of a Nightingale**

A story by **Ryeloza**

**Chapter Five**

The maternity ward of the hospital was as shockingly sterile and devoid of life in appearance as every other room and hallway on the floor. Tom had never appreciated that the look of the room so starkly contrasted the fact that this was the one part of the building that consistently brought new life into the world until that horrible December day that they'd lost one of their babies. Then, the cold, white walls matched his mood; the hollow clacking of shoes on the tiled floor echoed the pain in his heart; it seemed fitting that the chairs were uncomfortable and that there was no window to see that the world outside was moving on with one less soul. Walking into that room now—even for a happy purpose—brought back every lifeless memory of that dark day, and Tom had to pause before he opened the door.

Through everything that had happened over the past thirty-six hours or so, neither he nor Lynette had once mentioned the baby boy they didn't have. For Tom, the thought was a throbbing kind of pain; a dull ache that would always be present, but that he had to ignore in order to go on with his life. And contrary to whatever he and Lynette might have thought, holding his daughter now helped more than anything. She was an affirmation that love could overwhelm cruelty.

But the waiting room…

It was like the words were waiting for him all over again. _We tried our best, but there was nothing we could do. We lost him_… _We _lost _him_: as though he was misplaced or missing; something Tom could find again if he looked hard enough. When the words had finally sunk in, Tom had felt like his heart and soul had been crushed by grief and nothing but the thought of Lynette and his children had been able to draw him away from what could have been an eternally dark place.

His children, who waited for him now.

Tom opened the door and to his surprise, his forced smile became genuine at the sight of his kids. They'd already left for school by the time he'd gotten home this morning, but seeing them now seemed right. They'd all be together for the first time, almost the way it was supposed to be.

Penny spotted him first and ran toward him with a childish enthusiasm that teetered on extinction with every passing day. It was an instant of perfection and Tom hugged her gratefully. "Can we see Mom?" she asked eagerly, as the boys walked over to join them. "Let's go!"

Without waiting for a response, Penny began to tug on his arm, impatiently leading him to the door. Parker rolled his eyes, but Tom noticed that the indifference was marred by the own hint of impatience in his strides. He wanted to see his mother as much as Penny did.

"Okay. Okay!" he acquiesced as Penny gave a particularly ferocious yank. "We're going."

As they walked down the hall, Penny gave a running commentary of everything she had to tell her mother—Caitlyn was getting a puppy and she was afraid she wouldn't be able to play at her house any more because she was allergic; she'd gotten full marks on her spelling test from last week; she'd done her own hair that morning and what did he think Mom would say about it?. The words filled the void of the boys' odd silence—none of them had mumbled more than hello—in a cheery sort of way that lasted until they actually entered the room. Then, every bit of Penny's verbosity seemed to vanish, and she held back, still clinging to Tom's hand while the boys became all warmth and smiles.

"You okay?" asked Tom softly, bending slightly to be closer to Penny's level.

Penny nodded, but her fearful eyes were glued to her mother and her sister. She bit her lip for a second and then tugged Tom down even closer to her. "Are you sure Mom's okay?"

Tom watched as Lynette handed the baby to Porter, realizing that where he saw only her strength and courage, Penny was for the first time seeing her mother in a vulnerable position. He kissed the top of her head reassuringly and said, "She's fine. And I bet she would be even better if you went over and gave her a hug."

There was one skeptical look, but Penny stole her hand from his and walked over to the bed. "There she is!" said Lynette with the brightest of smiles; the one she reserved only for her children. Even from behind, Tom could sense Penny relax. "Come here, sweetie."

Penny climbed up onto the bed and Lynette pulled her into a tight hug, rocking her back and forth for a second before pulling back and kissing her forehead. "I missed you!"

"I missed you too." Penny stared at the baby, who Porter had passed on to a reluctant Parker, and all of her stories and questions and comments seemed to leave her. Instead she leaned back in the bed, resting her head against Lynette's shoulder.

"What's her name?" asked Preston as he began to complicatedly take the baby from Parker's arms. Tom hovered behind them, more than ready to interfere if they needed help.

Lynette glanced at Tom for a moment and he tore his eyes from the boys for a second to giver her a warm smile. "Peggy," she said. "Peggy Beth Scavo."

"Why Peggy?" asked Parker, looking relieved that the baby was out of his arms. It was funny to see him so nervous considering how rough he'd been with Penny, and Tom wondered just how long it would be before he felt comfortable around her.

"Yeah. I thought her name was _Polly_." Penny didn't quite manage to keep the bitterness out of her voice as she said this. Lynette gave her a sardonic look, and Tom bypassed the moment by ignoring Penny's comment.

"Well my grandmother's name was Margaret."

Penny frowned. "How do you get Peggy from Margaret?"

"It's a nickname," said Porter condescendingly, not really answering Penny's question, though she merely gave a shrug in response.

"It's a lot better than Polly." Parker nodded in emphatic agreement with his sister and Tom gave Lynette a slightly superior look that she pointedly ignored. Unaware of the silent conversation between her parents, Penny turned to Lynette. "Can I hold her now?"

"Sure. Just be careful. Make sure you support her head."

Preston gently placed Peggy in Penny's outstretched arms. His eldest daughter, though she looked somewhat awkward, still seemed more relaxed than Parker had. "She's really little," said Penny. "I didn't think she'd be so little."

Lynette ran a finger over the baby's forehead. "You were just about the same size. Porter and Preston were even smaller."

"Smaller than me?" Penny grinned as though this was a triumph and then stuck out her tongue at her older brothers. Finally, she seemed entirely relaxed in her surroundings and she eagerly turned her head toward her mother. "Mom, guess what? Today at lunch Colby Schmidt threw his mashed potatoes at the wall and got sent to the principal's office!"

Tom shook his head and smiled, letting Penny's words fall over him like a warm rain. Tomorrow Lynette and Peggy would be coming home. They'd be back to the chaos of their everyday life. Back to their kids' busy schedules and work and cleaning the house and doing laundry and sitting out on the porch on warm spring evenings. But right now the reality of that seemed far away and hazy; right now they were just together as a family for the first time.

They said that people could feel when their families were finished. Tom wasn't sure that they'd ever feel entirely whole with the shadow of loss over them, but he knew for certain that this was it. Their family was finally complete. And as Lynette caught his eye over Penny's head, he knew that she was thinking the same thing.

_**-Fin**_**-**


End file.
